Here without you
by blackm00n5
Summary: Songfic, a rewrite of a scene in the book where Steve visits Darren's grave. Slash.


**A/N My first Cirque Du Freak story! And of course, I make it slash. xD I Hope they're in character. xD**

**Beta'd by star869, thank you very much. xD**

**Disclaimer~ I do not own Cirque du Freak, because if I did, Steve and Darren would have a big, dramatic romance. xD Don't own the song either.**

Steve Leonard walked slowly into the graveyard, an almost full bottle of vodka in one hand and a guitar in its case slung over his shoulder. There were few things Steve felt he could brag about, and his ability to write and play songs was one of them. A voice that makes you cry, Darren had once said.

He got to his best friend's grave and ran a hand lovingly over it, a sad, forlorn smile on his face. He let himself sink to the ground and lean against the grave. Steve gulped down two shots worth of the vodka and winced ever so slightly as the burn ran down his throat. The brunette let his head fall back on the grave with a sigh.

"I'm an atheist, why do I keep talking to this grave like I expect you to answer." He closed his eyes and gave another sad smile. "Guess pretending I have someone to talk to makes me feel better. I don't have anyone anymore." Steve took another swig of the liquor in his hand.

He undid the case holding his guitar. He ran his hand gingerly over the neck, feeling each string under calloused fingers. a few chords were strummed before he started to sing softly.

_"A hundred days have made me older_  
_Since the last time that I saw your pretty face_  
_A thousand lies have made me colder_  
_And I don't think I can look at this the same_  
_But all the miles that separate_  
_Disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face_

_I'm here without you baby_  
_But you're still on my lonely mind_  
_I think about you baby_  
_And I dream about you all the time_

_I'm here without you baby_  
_But you're still with me in my dreams_  
_And tonight it's only you and me, yeah_

_The miles just keep rollin'_  
_As the people leave their way to say hello_  
_I've heard this life is overrated_  
_But I hope that it gets better as we go, oh yeah yeah_

_I'm here without you baby_  
_But you're still on my lonely mind_  
_I think about you baby_  
_And I dream about you all the time_

_I'm here without you baby_  
_But you're still with me in my dreams_  
_And tonight it's only you and me_

_Everything I know and anywhere I go_  
_It gets hard but it won't take away my love_  
_And when the last one falls, when it's all said and done_  
_It gets hard but it won't take away my love, whoa_

_I'm here without you baby_  
_But you're still on my lonely mind_  
_I think about you baby_  
_And I dream about you all the time_

_I'm here without you baby_  
_But you're still with me in my dreams_  
_And tonight it's only you and me, yeah "_

He forced back the tears welling in his eyes before he gulped down more of the vodka.

"C'mon, man. I was the one who was supposed to die young. I was the one with no future, no one would care if I die. You were gonna do great stuff, you had a future. If I died you wouldn't be alone. You were all I ever had. My mom hates me, none of my 'friends' actually like me...I've got no one now..." Shaking his head, more alcohol slithered down his throat.

"Drinking won't help." Steve jumped at the voice and looked up to see a man.

He was maybe in his late forties, bald and a scruff on his face that looked like he hadn't shaved in a week or so. He was leaning on the grave across from Steve. He tilted his head slightly and eyed the bottle in the teen's hand.

"What would your mom say?" Steve scoffed.

"She doesn't give shit if i'm drinking. She'll only be pissed if she realizes I took her liquor. " He looked at the bottle, glaring slightly.

"Well, drinking still won't help...all it does is keep you from crying because you're too busy throwing up. " He looked at the watery, brown eyes looking at the bottle. "Why are you keeping yourself from crying?" Steve shrugged.

"Guess I'm sick of crying because someone left me. First my dad, then my mom when she started drinking...now my best friend? Fuck that, I'm sick of feeling pathetic." Shaking his head, the teen threw the bottle, growling under his breath.

He let his head fall back against the grave again, whimpering slightly. The man stared at him, an ever so slight sympathetic look in his eyes. Steve could feel his heart clenching in his chest, and the alcohol churning in his otherwise empty stomach. His hands balled into fists and with his face creased in anger, he punched at the ground. He could feel warm tears slowly sliding down his cheeks and he bit his bottom lip so hard it bled. With a choked sob, he looked back at the man.

"What the fuck do I do?" He asked, feeling like he was a child again, hiding under his blankets from the screams down the stairs, sobbing into that worn blanket he still kept under his pillow.

"I dunno, kid." With a shrug, the man faded away. Steve gaped at the spot he had been, tears still streaming down his face.

And when he finally realized he was alone again, he pulled his knees up to his chest and sobbed into them. He mumbled incoherently as the sobs continued to wrack his body, Darren's name escaping his throat a few times. Every muscle in his body was tightening, but the pain of it was lost to him as he let the tears flood out. Finally, after what could have been hours, the sobs where just dry heaves. He just had no tears left. The teen's stomach was sore, and his throat stung. His knuckles bled, though he didn't remember punching anything but the dirt.

soundlessly, he stood up and put his guitar back in it's case. He stared at the gray stone with his best friend's name on it and wiped the tears from his face. Tenderly, he placed a hand on it and ran his fingers over the name etched into the stone.

"I love you, Darren. I'm so, fucking, in love with you." Sadly, he shook his head and trudged out of the grave yard.

* * *

Eyes watched from the trees as the brunette walked away. As he left eyesight, Darren jumped down and stood next to his grave. He sadly ran his own hand over where Steve's had been just moments before.

"I love you, too." He whispered.

**A/N I hopefully did an alright job. And no, Steve is not crazy he was talking to a ghost. xD And I have no idea if his character is supposed to be an athiest, but with how sucky his life seems to be a figured he would be. Constructive criticism is always welcome.**


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